


Amelie

by theequilateraltriangle



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Blackwatch Widowmaker | Amélie Lacroix, F/F, F/M, M/M, POV Second Person, a lot of non canon, actually, canon is dead, the spiderbyte happens v v late, this is my first fic so dont uuuuh kill me please for the bad writing, this isnt a ship fic but there are ships in it, this might be a little ooc
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-11
Updated: 2018-05-22
Packaged: 2019-05-05 01:45:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14606463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theequilateraltriangle/pseuds/theequilateraltriangle
Summary: An alternate universe where Amelie attempts to join Overwatch after she's sick of seeing Gerard come home bruised and bloody, and scared of him one day not coming home at all. Years later, she thinks this may have been where everything went so horribly wrong.





	1. Chapter 1

It started with a ringing. It was loud, ceaseless, and most of all, it hurt. Amelie groggily rubbed at her temples, hoping it would go away once she was fully awake. Blinking open her eyes, she tried to remember when she had fallen asleep. Last she remembered, she was with Sombra, cleaning up after a mission. She was exhausted and bleeding and all she wanted was for it all to go away. Of course, she couldn’t say that. She wasn’t supposed to feel anything. The memory was blurry, but Sombra gave her some pain medicine, and  
  
What did she say?  
  
She said she was sorry.  
  
What could she be sorry for?  
  
Suddenly, the tiredness was gone, jolted away by the uneasiness of the memory. And the uneasiness of where she was. This was not the makeshift infirmary. This was not her room. This was not Sombra’s room, or the common area, or anywhere in the headquarters. This was a hospital room, and it was NOT the one she was familiar with. Alarmed, she whipped her head around to take note of her surroundings.  
One exit. Seemingly locked, but she couldn’t be sure. No windows, no other escape routes. No tools to break through the door, besides one IV stand, equipped with multiple bags of suspicious looking chemicals. Following the trail of the tubes down, she saw that there were at least 4 IVs hooked up to her. Her first impulse was to rip them out, but she didn’t know what this was. She didn’t know what could happen if she did. She did, however, know what would happen if she “wasted” Moira’s chemicals. She wasn’t foolish enough to risk that again. Amelie quickly examined if anything else had been done to her, holding back the small bubble of fear and panic rising. That in itself was unusual. The medication usually kept those emotions away. There were many, many small pinpricks where it seemed needles had been inserted, various bandages, and several bands attached to her wrists and ankles, not to mention a scratchy blue green hospital gown that definitely had no place in any talon infirmary. She guessed her best shot as to where she was could come from the writing on her wristbands, so, with slightly shaking hands, she peered at them.  
  
“Overwatch Infirmary.”  
  
“INMATE”  
  
“Amelie Lacroix. Considered dangerous. DO NOT LET OUT.”  
  
Her vison blurred before she could read anything else. Confused, she touched a fingertip to her cheek, surprised to find the stain of a tear. She hadn’t cried since  
  
Since  
Since everything started.  
  
She looked up from her hands into the mirror she knew must be two ways, and gaped at her reflection. Stringy, messy black hair, down instead of its usual ponytail. Patchy skin, almost looking like it was trying to revert back to its original color, rather than the color of the dead. The girl in the mirror looked afraid. Weak. Vulnerable.  
The girl in the mirror let out a sob.


	2. The beginning

This bed was too big for one person. A petite dancer, who took up less than 1/3 of the space. This bed was meant for one dancer and one soldier, and Gerard hadn’t been home in two weeks. He had told her he was going on a simple mission, and that he’d be back before dinner the next evening. Like always, he had abruptly changed the subject when she asked where he was going, who he was going with, who to contact if he didn’t show up, if he would be safe. Now he was gone, and she was helpless. He was all alone and she couldn’t do anything but sit in her bed and sob and attend her stupid fucking dance recitals, which didn’t mean anything if he was gone. She’d skipped practice for nine days. She’d stopped sleeping for five. She hadn’t eaten in three. Unless you count black coffee and wine. Gerard was strong, and he could take care of himself. She knew that. She knew that beyond a doubt. But she also knew what he was up against, and what he was fighting for. Amelie lay in her bed, staring at nothing and thinking of everything. Empty bottles of wine littered the floor beside her, and she mindlessly twirled her tangled and unwashed hair. She turned her head, catching a glimpse of her own reflection in the mirror across the room. A smile tugged at her lips; she had never looked worse. 

Rolling over, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath before sitting up. She groaned as her head pounded and stomach roared, a penance for drinking on an empty stomach, and tried to orient herself in the spinning room before slowly dragging herself out of bed. Unfortunately, her noble plan to try and grab a glass of water was foiled by her vision going black and her knees giving out the moment she was on her feet. She tumbled to the floor beside her nightstand, breathing hard. 

“How pitiful I am.” She thought, laughing softly as the first traces of tears began to fall.

She wasn’t sure how long she stayed like that, crying on the floor, unable to find the energy to move. With her curtains drawn she didn’t even have light to go off. Time seemed endless and unimportant in the grand scheme of things, what really mattered until Gerard came home? At some point she must have passed out, because the next thing she knew her eyelids were fluttering open to the sound of her own name. 

“Amelie?” Gerard’s face came into view, concern blatantly plastered across it. Amelie sat mouth agape, unable to process what she was seeing, and sure the effects of drinking had caught up to her. Gerard was right there. Right there, after two weeks of hell. His face was bruised and his uniform was bloodied, but he was alive. 

“Amelie, love, what happened to you?” His voice was soft, and full of worry, as if he had any right to be the one worried in this situation. 

“What happened to me?” Amelie whispered, her eyes widening and her voice shocked. “What happened to me? For god sake’s Gerard, what happened to YOU? Where have you been for the past two weeks? Where did you get these injuries? What did you do?” 

Amelie’s tone raised gradually until she was practically shouting, her already tearstained face and reddened eyes full of anger, but more then that; fear. She threw herself into Gerard’s outstretched arms, half sobbing, and half screaming at him for leaving her all alone. Her nails dug into his uniform, clutching at him as if he’d disappear again if she didn’t hug him tight enough. Gerard whispered apologies and tried his best to calm her down, petting her hair and quietly inspecting the destroyed bedroom. 

“I’m so sorry, mon chéri, I’m so sorry. It was supposed to be a simple mission, but things went a little off. I got stuck in Venice, of all places, but I came home as soon as I could. I swear it.” Gerard said as Amelie finally stopped crying and pulled away to look at him. His eyes were full of regret and sincerity, and Amelie’s anger fizzled out in favor of concern and love. 

“Gerard.” Amelie replied sternly, her voice hardening. He winced, avoiding eye contact.

“How many times must we have this fight? How many times do I have to hear ‘I’m sorry, something just went wrong.’ How many days do I have to spend worrying myself half to death over whether or not you’ll come home?” She reached out and grasped Gerard’s hand, and tilted his head up to look her in the eyes.

“We’ve had enough conversations about this for you to know how I feel about you being in overwatch, and how I feel when you go missing. This can’t go on anymore.” Amelie’s tone was firm. Gerard knew, he knew, that when she used that tone there was no negotiating. She only sounded like this when she was truly on the edge. 

They were silent for a few moments, quietly accepting the fact that something had to change.

“Gerard?” Amelie’s voice rang out in the hushed room, startling both of them.

“Yes?” Gerard replied, his speech heavy and tired.

“Either you quit overwatch, or I join.”

“No.” Gerard’s response was instantaneous, jolting Amelie into letting go of his hand.

“And why not? I know you’re good at your job. I know you help countless people. I know your work is important, and you’d never want to give that up. And I would never want to make you give it up. But this cannot continue. And I think we both know that.” 

Gerard tilted his head to stare at the ceiling rather than his wife’s burning gaze. 

“And I am strong, Gerard. You know this. And I’m resilient, and fast, and I would have a reason to fight as hard as I can. You.”

Gerard was quiet for many moments, considering what she had said. When he finally spoke it was with a resigned sort of sadness. 

“Amelie, love, let’s talk about this-“

“We have talked about this.” Amelie hissed, her face contorted in anger. “We’ve talked and talked and talked. I’m done talking. I’m ready to start fighting; either for Overwatch or for you.”

“…Ok.” Gerard let the words fall from his lips in a whisper, his eyes becoming glossy. ”I’ll take you to talk to Morrison, Reyes, and Ana on Monday. And Amelie?”

“Yes?”

“I love you. You’ll be safe, won’t you? I cant….I cant lose you.”

“I can’t lose you either.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as always, feedback appreciated!!!

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first writing attempt, so any and all support would be very very appreciated!!! Also, its very short because it's just the introduction. Real chapters will be longer.


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